Just The Tip

Kota & Swaily

32 notes

thebaldsunshine:

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe (for my lovely zuzzolek on her birthday)
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-                 Only this, and nothing more.” Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-                 Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, “‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-                 This it is, and nothing more.” Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door;-                 Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?” This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”-                 Merely this, and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-                 ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!” Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-                 Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”                 Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,                 With such name as “Nevermore.” But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, “Other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”                 Then the bird said, “Nevermore.” Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore                 Of ‘Never- nevermore’.” But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore                 Meant in croaking “Nevermore.” This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,                 She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”                 Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- On this home by Horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore- Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!”                 Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”                 Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”                 Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor                 Shall be lifted- nevermore! 

thebaldsunshine:

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe (for my lovely zuzzolek on her birthday)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, 
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, 
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door- 
                Only this, and nothing more.” 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, 
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. 
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow 
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore- 
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore- 
                Nameless here for evermore. 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain 
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; 
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, 
“‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- 
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- 
                This it is, and nothing more.” 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, 
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; 
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, 
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, 
That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door;- 
                Darkness there, and nothing more. 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, 
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; 
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, 
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?” 
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”- 
                Merely this, and nothing more. 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, 
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. 
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice: 
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- 
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;- 
                ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!” 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, 
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; 
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; 
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- 
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- 
                Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. 
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, 
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore- 
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” 
                Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” 

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, 
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore; 
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being 
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- 
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, 
                With such name as “Nevermore.” 

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. 
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- 
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “Other friends have flown before- 
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.” 
                Then the bird said, “Nevermore.” 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, 
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster 
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- 
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 
                Of ‘Never- nevermore’.” 

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, 
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; 
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking 
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- 
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore 
                Meant in croaking “Nevermore.” 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing 
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; 
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining 
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, 
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er, 
                She shall press, ah, nevermore! 

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer 
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. 
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee 
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! 
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!” 
                Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - 
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, 
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- 
On this home by Horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore- 
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!” 
                Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! 
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- 
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, 
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- 
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” 
                Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” 

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- 
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! 
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! 
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! 
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” 
                Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” 

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; 
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, 
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 
                Shall be lifted- nevermore! 

987,591 notes

rlyhigh:

saevuswinds:

vardaesque:

you don’t understand i would sell my firstborn to know how this story started

Well it all started when Mrs. Hayfer wanted me to babysit her dumb house. When I got the keys, I sat them on top of this pie that I found on the counter. I knew it was going to be given to the family for desert if I didn’t eat it soon, so I was going to plan to eat it in my teacher’s house and dump all the crumbs on her bed. So it’s a win-win, right? Besides, she wouldn’t find out about the crumbs until after I was paid, and this teacher hates me anyway. Then, I got distracted when this hot cheerleader calls me, asking about what movie I’d recommend, but before I could answer, I realize that my mom would be there any second to serve dinner, and there was no way I was sharing that pie. So I bust out of there with the pie and the keys, and the moment I get in the house, I start chowing down on the pie with my bare hands, trying to eat this thing before anyone knows I took it, right? Well, since the pie crust was dry, I chugged a 2-liter bottle of soda whenever my throat would get dry and eventually, I really needed “to go.” Only when I went to flush, the water wouldn’t stop flowing and there was no plunger to be found. Usually I’d just shrug and say it was Josh’s fault or something, but let’s get real here, Mrs. Hayfer would’ve blamed me about her toilet overflowing if I was 30 states away. So I jammed my foot in there, hoping it’d make the toilet stop flushing. Then my phone rings, and I knew it was my mom, asking where her pie went, and because Meghan decided it’d be a great idea to make my ring tone a bunch of cats meowing, Mrs. Hayfer’s dog, Tiberius starts freaking out, bashing into the door over and over again. Now anyone who knows this dog knows that this dog will happily eat anything, and that includes the pie, and probably myself.  So my foot’s totally stuck in there right, I’m freaking out, the dog’s having a seizure and I still got half a pie left. 

i feel it necessary to reblog since i just read that whole thing

rlyhigh:

saevuswinds:

vardaesque:

you don’t understand i would sell my firstborn to know how this story started

Well it all started when Mrs. Hayfer wanted me to babysit her dumb house. When I got the keys, I sat them on top of this pie that I found on the counter. I knew it was going to be given to the family for desert if I didn’t eat it soon, so I was going to plan to eat it in my teacher’s house and dump all the crumbs on her bed. So it’s a win-win, right? Besides, she wouldn’t find out about the crumbs until after I was paid, and this teacher hates me anyway. Then, I got distracted when this hot cheerleader calls me, asking about what movie I’d recommend, but before I could answer, I realize that my mom would be there any second to serve dinner, and there was no way I was sharing that pie. So I bust out of there with the pie and the keys, and the moment I get in the house, I start chowing down on the pie with my bare hands, trying to eat this thing before anyone knows I took it, right? Well, since the pie crust was dry, I chugged a 2-liter bottle of soda whenever my throat would get dry and eventually, I really needed “to go.” Only when I went to flush, the water wouldn’t stop flowing and there was no plunger to be found. Usually I’d just shrug and say it was Josh’s fault or something, but let’s get real here, Mrs. Hayfer would’ve blamed me about her toilet overflowing if I was 30 states away. So I jammed my foot in there, hoping it’d make the toilet stop flushing. Then my phone rings, and I knew it was my mom, asking where her pie went, and because Meghan decided it’d be a great idea to make my ring tone a bunch of cats meowing, Mrs. Hayfer’s dog, Tiberius starts freaking out, bashing into the door over and over again. Now anyone who knows this dog knows that this dog will happily eat anything, and that includes the pie, and probably myself.  So my foot’s totally stuck in there right, I’m freaking out, the dog’s having a seizure and I still got half a pie left. 

i feel it necessary to reblog since i just read that whole thing

(Source: abadeerzs, via alfronz)